


Should Have Thought

by Rasiaa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Break Up, Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Make Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 13:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13591341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: I always thought that losing Sam would be the most painful thing in my life.But this?This feels just as bad.





	Should Have Thought

**Author's Note:**

> This is the angst-fest that was so rudely interrupted by my new, totally unplanned fluff monster, "Surprise."  
> They are completely unrelated, except that they were both written to "Tequila" by Dan + Shay and were thought up in the car. This one, however, was originally inspired by "Sober Saturday Night" by Chris Young. Here are the links if you'd like to listen.  
> http://listenonrepeat.com/?v=9j8afmT-bLM#Dan_%2B_Shay_-__Tequila__(Visualizer)  
> http://listenonrepeat.com/?v=ECEbBJq5pvM#Chris_Young_-_Sober_Saturday_Night_(feat__Vince_Gill)

I can remember the day I lost Sam and sold my soul like it was yesterday.

I thought I would never feel heartbreak like that again, because losing Sammy - my whole world - is like losing everything that matters. Every single time I've lost him - through death, through words - hurts like a bitch, like I'll never recover. I thought losing Sam would be the only thing I could feel that level of grief for, ever.

I was wrong.

I've been standing here for at least five minutes and it hasn't stopped. I haven't said anything, haven't moved, have barely even breathed.

I thought - God, I'd thought it was taking too long. Now I know why.

"Dean?" 

I jolt, barely acknowledging my younger brother before my gaze is dragged back to the sight down the hall. Sam touches my shoulder and then I can hear him suck in a sharp breath. " _Castiel?_ " Sam screeches, sounding furious, and Cas jumps, pulling away from her.

She leans back with a gentle smile, this nameless chick who has just stolen everything.

Sam storms forward like a whirlwind, and I watch as if I'm under water as Sam slams Cas against the wall with a snarl. " _How dare you?_ " Sam screams, voice breaking on my behalf. Finally the tears begin to well in my eyes. "Cas - Cas… How could you even think of this?"

"Sam…" Cas starts, then falters, looking upset. I watch him bite his lip, then, "Don't tell Dean," Cas pleads, and Sam laughs harshly.

"Dean's the one who found you first," Sam says, voice thick with something like grief-stricken spite.

Cas' head snaps toward me, blue eyes wide under the dark lights. He looks debauched, tousled and thoroughly fucked.

The girl steps forward now, nudging Sam out of the way to press a lingering kiss to Cas' mouth. "Call me," she suggests, and walks away, her heels clicking on the tacky, fake tile under our feet. She flashes me a smile, then disappears. I glance at Cas, then tear my eyes away to give Sam a long look. He nods slightly, and I turn and walk away.

"Dean? Dean!" Cas is calling me. I ignore him and keep walking.

The door to the bar is blocked by seemingly a hundred people, but all of them stop to stare at me, feels like. They barely move as I force my way passed, out the door and into the cool air. My cheeks are freezing as I walk to the Impala, but if I'm honest, I barely notice.

All I can think about is the way Cas had been kissing her. He was kissing her like he had always kissed me - desperately, like I was all he had, like I was the only thing he would ever need. I felt special, cherished, loved, but now - I know that that's just the way he kisses, and maybe it meant nothing to him at all.

I lean on the cold exterior of the car, my eyes falling closed.

"Dean?" Sam's voice is quiet, and the touch of his fingers on my elbow is delicate. I wordlessly press the keys into his hands and walk around to the other side of the car. When I get in, I curl into the seat and don't say a word. Sam doesn't either, just cranking the radio and pulling out of the lot.

My eyes fall on Cas standing just outside the bar, a gentle breeze ruffling his hair and lifting the collar of his trench coat. We make eye contact, and then Sam turns the wheel into the street.

…

I know, distantly, that Cas has nowhere else to go. So I'm not surprised when I see him in the kitchen of the bunker the next morning. I brush passed him and head straight for the coffee machine.

"Dean?" he asks after a moment, and I ignore him. I watch the coffee fill the pot listlessly, not moving, barely breathing. I can feel Cas' gaze on my back, the heat of his body getting closer to mine.

Footsteps come from down the hall and Cas steps away, a sigh falling from his lips. The coffee finishes and I grab a mug from the pile of clean dishes next to the sink, turning once the mug is full. Charlie takes one look at me. "My room. Now," she says, and I blink. Nodding, I walk in that direction.

Then I stop just out of sight.

"You're awful, Castiel," Charlie says conversationally. "You don't deserve him."

"I know," Cas responds, tone dejected.

"You are so damn lucky that Dean's heart would break a thousand fold if I killed you," she says next, and then I hear her walking towards me. Cas doesn't answer her.

She doesn't seem surprised to see me. She links her arm through mine and guides me through the halls.

We say nothing until we step into the room and the door is shut and locked behind us. She takes the coffee from me and sets it on the bedside table. Settling on the bed, she opens her arms, and I stand there for a second. She gestures for me to come over, and so I give in.

Sitting on her bed with her arms around me is different than what I'm used to. Cas was affectionate, but this feels different. This must be what a best friend feels like.

"Tell me," she whispers in my hair, her hand rubbing up and down my arm.

"He cheated on me."

The words sound hollow. Like they were said by someone else. My brain isn't catching onto their meaning, and my heart is too numb to help it along.

Charlie is a godsend. She kisses my head and releases me, leaning over to grab her laptop. "Want to find the next con?" she asks, pulling up the internet and hovering her fingers over the keyboard. I grin.

"Hell, yeah."

"It'll be our day, Dean," she assures me, and then pulls up a website with some fancy official comic-con information on it. "Pass me my purse, dude," she demands.

I snicker under my breath and grab it from her side table. She snags it before I can even move my arm enough to just hand it over. Pulling out a sparkly wallet, she unzips it and tugs out a credit card. "Here," she says carelessly, tossing the wallet to me as she begins typing in the numbers for the card. "There," she says a moment later, "Two tickets. Next week. You and me."

"Thanks, Charlie," I respond. She waves me off and pins me with a mock glare.

"No thanking me. I want to see if they have some first edition comics for my collection, and it's lame to go alone."

I laugh, for real this time. "Of course," I agree.

…

The next morning has me confused.

Waking up yesterday had been crystal clear immediately. Today, it takes me several long minutes before I realize why Cas isn't holding me. And my heart breaks all over again.

Closing my eyes, I tug my pillow over my head with one hand and the blanket to my chin with the other. I have to work to swallow passed the lump in my throat. I grit my teeth and blink rapidly but it doesn't work; the tears stain the sheets below me anyway.

I miss him. I miss him so much I feel like dying. It's like -

A sob makes its way out of my mouth, breaking the silence. I bite on my fist to stop any further noises, but it doesn't stop my shaking shoulders. I just can't believe that this happened. That Cas - 

That _my_ Cas - that he could be so cruel. And then to ask that it be kept a secret. God, what a fool I've been. How long has he been cheating? How did I not notice?

Did he ever love me? He said he did.

I feel like a teenage girl. This is ridiculous.

There's a knock on my door. "Dean?"

It's Sam.

I grunt in response, and he must take that as permission to come on in, because the door opens. I can see the light from the hallway through the sheets, and then it's gone. Sam sits on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on my ankle.

"What do you want?" I question harshly, not moving.

"Are you alright?"

Typical.

"No fucking chick-flick moments, Sam. If that's what you want, get the hell outta here," I say bluntly, in no mood for this.

Sam sighs. "I spoke to Cas," he says.

"So?"

"He's the one who's asking," Sam says. "I know you're not alright. I could see it on your face. And the fact that you're hiding under the blankets like a five year old is just another hint -" I kick him harshly in the thigh and he breaks off, snickering, the little bitch - "Anyway. I guess he just want to apologize, Dean."

Now, I sit up, clenching the edge of the pillow in my hand. "And are you suggesting I just forgive him?" I demand incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

He pulls a bitchface and rolls his eyes. "Of course not, Dean. He cheated on you. I just figured you'd want to know."

"Well, I don't," I retort. He takes his hand off my ankle to hold both hands up defensively.

"Fine," Sam agrees, standing. "I found a hunt if you're interested," he offers, and then leaves before I can respond, probably to encourage me to leave my room.

I glance at my phone for the time. It's a little past noon. Thinning my lips, I just toss the phone to the other side of the bed ( _Cas' side_ , some traitorous part of my brain reminds me) and roll over.

There really is no point in getting out of bed.

…

Charlie waltzes in unannounced around seven that evening, throwing herself onto my bed just as I'm beating my high score on Temple Run. The stupid guy gets hit in the face with fire and I glare at her as the end credits pop up. "Dude," I accuse, but she doesn't care.

"Shower, we're going out," she commands, and I stare at her.

"No, we're not," I argue, and look back at my phone to start up the game again.

Hunter's instincts have me moving out of her reach just as she tries to snatch my phone, and she growls at me. "Dean!" she whines, scrambling on top of me. Luckily, I have a little brother who used to do the same thing, so I just release all the tension in my body and she pauses long enough for me to completely throw her off. Yelping in surprise, she bounces as she hits the bed.

"Dude," she says, voice accusatory.

I roll my eyes and make a shooing motion with my hands. "Scram," I say.

"I am so not letting you sit here for the rest of your life while you mope over a fucking boy," she says, clearly disgusted with the idea.

"He isn't a boy, Charlie," I correct, weary. "He is the love of my life, and I think I'm allowed to grieve for him."

"He isn't dead, you know," she says, as if she didn't know exactly what I meant.

"He's dead to me," I murmur in response.

There's a sharp breath taken from just outside my door, and Charlie and I both turn to stare at it. I narrow my eyes. "You don't just cheat on someone and not expect the relationship to end immediately," I continue, as if I hadn't heard. "He broke me, Charlie."

The breath is released, shaky and thin. Charlie and I exchange glances.

"I know," Charlie says softly. "And if you'd let me, I'll kill him."

"I don't actually want him dead, Charlie."

"You just want him gone?" she asks, and I shake my head, still staring at the door as if I could actually see the angel I know is standing on the other side.

"I just want this to be over," I say helplessly. "I wish this had never happened. There's a reason I never did relationships, Charlie. Everyone always leaves."

It's easy to say these things, not looking at Charlie, and not looking at Cas. It's like I'm alone, in the privacy of my room, without anyone around for miles and miles. I zone out as I stare at the wood barrier between Cas and I. "Everyone always leaves, and I don't know why I thought Castiel would be any different," I finish.

Soft footsteps back away from the door, and travel down the hall.

Charlie leans her head on my shoulder, and she doesn't protest again as I pull up the game, leaning against the headboard.

…

"Dean," Cas says sternly, grabbing my arm as I move to pass him by. I jerk, turning around to stare at him furiously.

God, he looks awful. I haven't properly seen him since I caught him kissing that chick in the bar, so the changes that have overcome him in just three days are shocking. He's pale and there are dark circles under his eyes. This doesn't make much sense as I know he doesn't need to sleep. He must be wearing himself out some other way.

His hair is a mess, tangled and oily like he's been running his fingers through it non-stop. It makes the darkness of his eyes stand out like bruises.

"What do you want?" I demand, yanking my arm back.

"Please, Dean," he says. "I just want to talk about this."

I snort and turn away. "There's nothing to talk about," I tell him. "You're the one who ended this, not me. If you regret it, you should've thought of that before kissing someone else."

I walk away. My heart breaks with every step.

I make it as far as the next hall over before I start crying again.

…

"How can I even begin to convince him that it meant nothing?"

I stop just outside the library, hearing the tears in Cas' voice and the thick weight of the air.

"How can you?" Sam repeats, sounding dubious. "Cas, there really is no way to prove something like that. Dean would never believe that; you know what he's like. His self-esteem is absolute shit."

Inwardly, I bristle. I know it's true, but it's never nice to hear.

"I wish I could go back in time," Cas says mournfully. "I love him so much, Sam. And now I've lost him. I thought that after all I'd done-"

Sam actually growls at that. "So it was intentional? You actually wanted to kiss her?"

I bite my lip and place my hand on the wall to steady myself.

There's a pause. "Not really," Cas confesses. "But she offered, and. Gosh, Sam, I don't even know what I was thinking."

"You weren't," Sam responds instantly. "You're an idiot."

"I'm aware," Cas say dryly. "Charlie sees fit to tell me that at least once an hour."

Charlie is so good to me.

"So, what? You just wanted to try it out, or something?"

I can practically hear Cas shrugging. There's some shuffling. "I thought, well. Dean is very fond of women. I don't see the appeal, and I wanted to know."

Sam sighs. "Dude. You should've told him that before you made out with some seedy chick in a bar. Dean's not unreasonable. He probably would've gone for a threesome."

Sam's right, I would've. I sigh to myself and lower my gaze to the floor.

"I was afraid to ask that of him," Cas whispers.

"Dude, you shouldn't be afraid of Dean."

There's silence after that remark, and yet, I don't move. It's like I'm just frozen in place. There's the rustle of paper, and I imagine that Sam's rifling through a book again.

"What do I do, Sam?"

The sounds of rustling paper stop. Sam is quiet for a long time. "…I don't know, Cas. You've really fucked up."

"I know!" Cas wails, sharp and piercing. I jolt slightly, my eyes widening. "It's not even been a week and I feel like dying," Cas continues, words fast. "I'm absolutely disgusted with myself."

He falls quiet, then, "I know Dean will never trust me again, will he?"

No, I think, heart sinking. No. I can't.

…

Charlie and I head to that con. We're dressed up in medieval royal outfits, and the distraction actually works, right up until I see a booth advertizing the books about Sam and I. Disgust wells within me. I reel back, tugging on Charlie, unable to bear the sight of people dressed up as Cas and I. She takes one look at it and guides me away.

…

Cas begins to spend time away from the bunker. Sam says he's hunting. Occasionally, I'll see him in the kitchen, washing dishes, putting groceries away. Other times, he's dusting the library. Vacuuming what few rugs we have, and I stop momentarily to stare when I see him doing that. I have to wonder where he got the vacuum.

He catches me looking, unfortunately, and his face momentarily brightens. I turn away stiffly, and I can see him droop out of the corner of my eye.

I force myself not to talk to him. I force myself to ignore his presence, to fall asleep alone and not wish for him. It's hard, and it's not getting any easier.

"I'm going out," I tell Sam, a full month after the incident. Sam looks up briefly, hazel eyes catching in the lamp light, before he grunts in acknowledgement and look back down at his laptop. I deliberately ignore the six-foot shadow behind me and walk to my room to get my wallet, keys, and shoes.

Then I'm gone.

The music is loud in my ears, but I barely hear it. I know my destination.

The bar is no different than any other. I flash my id and then sit right at the counter, ordering a few shots. The bartender brings them over. I down them quickly, then spin around in the stool, scanning the room.

It doesn't take long for the blond to come forward, sauntering with a bright red pencil skirt and heels and one of the lowest cut blouses I've ever seen. Her eyes are hooded, and she doesn't bother with any pretense. Our eyes are locked, so she just leans over and kisses me.

The pressure on my lips is familiar and welcome. The icy cold shot through my chest is not.

She pulls back. "You tryin' ta cheat?" she asks, eyebrows raised inquisitively. "I can help with that, but you gotta be sure, hon."

I clear my throat. "I was cheated on. Trying to get over it," I confess. "How could you tell?"

Her mouth turns up at the corners. "Hon, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on ya. Yer not dressed for picking someone up, but the looseness of yer posture says ya wouldn't mind. Then, ya didn't kiss like ya meant it."

"Sorry," I murmur, reaching back for the last of my shots. She laughs.

"Don't worry 'bout it, babe," she says. "I've been there, done that, got the tee shirt." She pauses, sliding onto the stool next to me. "Name's Melanie."

"Dean," I respond, shaking her hand. She grins.

"Four more and two beers!" she calls to the bartender, who salutes her and finishes what she was doing.

Melanie's eyes trail back to me. "You still love her?" she asks, her head cocking to the side.

I laugh, my throat closing. "I adore him. But he broke my heart."

She nods, throwing back a shot. "Did he give ya a reason why?" she asks.

I bite my lip. "He wanted to see what was so appealing about women," I say, feeling helpless. Saying it out loud makes everything seem preposterous.

"Well, ain't he dumb," she scoffs, shaking her head. "A guy like ya, and he wants to try someone else."

I snort in amusement. "Thanks," I say.

She pins me with a severe look. "I know how the cheating game works, hon. It's never fun. But I can see, plain as day, that ya look at me and feel as if yer cheating on _him_ , no?"

"You read me like a book," I reply, somewhat impressed. She smirks.

"Psyche major, babe."

"Well, Ms. Psyche major, any idea on how to get past this?" I ask, and her eyes soften.

"Ask yourself this: Is he worth it?"

"Yes," I answer, not even fully processing the question. It's Cas.

"And does he seem ta regret it?"

"Yeah."

"And yer not just afraid of being alone?"

I scoff at that one. "I have my brother. And it would not be the first time that he's left me alone."

Her eyebrows go up. "Not the first time he's left ya?" she repeats, shock coloring her tone.

I shrug. "The circumstances were different. But I always forgave him later - a lot of times it wasn't even his fault."

She nods, still looking concerned as she downs another shot. When the glass hits the table, she says, "I think it's time ya talk ta him, and think about whether or not ya can move forward. Don't force it. If ya can't get past it in a month or so, it's over, okay?"

Nodding, I raise a shot in a salute. "Okay. Thanks, Melanie," I say.

"Happy ta help," she replies, smiling. We down the last two shots at once.

…

It takes two more days before I approach Charlie.

"Hm," she hums when I finish my story about Melanie and the bar. "She sounds bright, Dean," Charlie says. "But I wouldn't do that."

"No?" I ask, some of the joy and hope I'd been unconsciously building draining fast.

She shakes her head. "I hate cheating, Dean, but this isn't my relationship." She pauses, looking at me thoroughly. "But then again, this is Cas we're talking about," she muses. "He worships the ground you walk on. I was shocked to hear that he'd even glanced sideways at someone else."

"Imagine how I felt," I scoff, picking at my nails. "I'm still in shock. I can't believe he did that…"

Charlie kisses my forehead. "You're my best friend and my brother, Dean. You do what you think you need to for yourself, and if that means giving Cas another chance then I'll be there. But the moment he breaks your heart again is the moment his ass is grass and I'll hang his balls from my rearview mirror."

I laugh, harder than I have in weeks. Charlie snickers along with me, mischief in her eyes. "Thanks, sis," I chuckle, pulling her into a hug.

"Always, dude," she responds, her arms around me, her chin on my shoulder.

…

The next three days come and go. I make no effort to seek out Cas, but when he approaches me cautiously on the third night, I don't push him away, either. He perches next to me on the couch, taut with tension and eyes red-rimmed.

Dr. Sexy has five more minutes so I ignore him, but I barely register the last moments of the episode. I'm ultra aware of the angel next to me.

Finally, the end credits roll, and I mute the television. "Castiel," I say, and he jumps. I never call him that. It sounds wrong on my tongue, the syllables full in my mouth. He shifts.

"Dean," he starts, then stops, taking a deep breath. I turn to look at him. He looks no better than he did a month ago. His hair is a mess, his whole body smaller somehow. He meets my eyes. "I just wanted… I'm so sorry, Dean," he says, taking in a deep breath.

I sigh. "I know you are," I whisper, my head dropping onto his shoulder. He tenses, but his hand curls into my hair immediately, seemingly without any thought to it. When I don't push him away, the grip becomes firmer but remains gentle, some of the tension leaving his body in a rush as he exhales deeply.

He sounds close to tears. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you did," I retort, unwilling to let him believe that this was okay, even for a second. He winces, but I stubbornly don't move away from him. "And it took me a long time to reconcile the image of the Cas I'd fallen in love with, with the one I saw in the bar, making out with some random bitch."

The tension leaks back into his body.

"But I spoke with people, spent time watching you, thinking… and I know you better than anyone, Cas. I do. And I believe that. Everything you've done before this has been for me. All these years… they meant something, you know? They do, man. And I tried, god, Cas, I tried to make out with someone else, but she pulled away and made me talk about my feelings for like a half hour. It sucked, but it was also kind of awesome. You ever tell Sam that, you're dead," I add, realizing I'm rambling but unable to stop. "But she made me realize that you're worth it. You're worth the fight, Cas, at least for me. I just have to ask if I'm worth the fight to you?"

I feel my insecurity and self-loathing so potently, like copper in my mouth, my heart racing in the few milliseconds it takes for Cas to breathe, "Of course you are."

I close my eyes but it doesn't do anything to stop the tears. His arms come up around me, and he rests his cheek on my head. "I'm so sorry," he starts to repeat himself. "I'm sorry, I love you…"

I open my eyes.

Sam and Charlie stand in the doorway. Sam looks unspeakably relieved, though still wary of the new compromise. Charlie looks proud. She catches my eye and nods to Cas, gesturing to her crotch with a scary look on her face. It startles a laugh out of me, the tears coming fast and hot all over again. Cas jumps a little, but when he follows my gaze, my stupid siblings are gone.

…

Cas holds me that night.

I drift off to sleep, feeling lighter and falling faster than I have in a long time.

Before my mind breaks its relationship with consciousness, I blink up at my lover, who stares at me in turn. It will take time, and effort.

But his blue eyes already look lighter, reflecting the Grace that shines within him. And I can remember why I thought he was worth the risk in the first place.

I've never had someone who stays with me because they want to. Even Charlie went off to Oz. But Cas? Cas is right here. And he's made mistakes, but so have I.

I just hope, feeling stupid even as I think it, that the next mistake he makes is more of the world-breaking variety.


End file.
